


Won't You Let Christmas Last One Day More?

by HamishHolmes



Series: 2014 Christmas A - Zs [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamishHolmes/pseuds/HamishHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Christmas A -Z, based around Fred and Hermione. Each chapter will be based on a word prompt and will be set in different AUs. It'll be updated daily, until the 25th when I'll upload two, because ... CHRISTMAS!</p><p>Other characters / relationships will be added as they appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. AWAKE

Hermione was fast asleep. Fred’s arms wrapped around her chest, pulling her gently against him. Legs tangled together, they slept.

Fred was first to wake, eyes blinking as he adjusted to the light. He yawned and nuzzled closer, burying his nose in Hermione’s mass of brown hair. Golden morning sun fell through the curtains, dappling the carpet and brightening the room. Fred leant back to check his watch: 9:20am. He decided it was okay to go and wake the children. With a slight shift, he rolled back and, with the delicacy of a well-practiced move, slipped his arm out from underneath Hermione’s sleeping body.

Then, he carefully untangled his legs from hers so that he was free to climb slowly and quietly out of the warmth of his bed and towards the door. With a gentle knock, he opened the first door, painted green with careful hands, because Hermione wanted to do it without magic, though last week he had thought that it was painted yellow.

“Hey, Rubeus,” he said to the sleeping form.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so sleeping, because the moment that he spoke, the young boy sat bolt upright in bed.

“Yes, Daddy?” he said, practically vibrating with the excitement, “is it time to see if Father Christmas has come?”

Hermione had insisted that her children were allowed to the delight of a full stocking that she herself had experienced.

“Not yet,” said Fred, stepping fully into the room, trademark grin fully in place, “we have to wake the others.”

Rubeus George Weasley got out of bed and slipped his feet into a pair of Gryffindor slippers, pulling on a dressing gown designed to look like a qudditch robe.

“Come on love,” said Fred, “it’s the twins next.”

Rubeus pulled a face, but he followed his father to the twins’ room.

“You awake?” called Fred, entering the room.

Gurgling and burbling emitted from the matching cribs.

“Come here,” said Fred, hoisting Nymphadora Caitlyn Weasley into his arms and bouncing her until she giggled.

“Rue, will you hold your sister for me please?”

Rubeus rolled his eyes like the teenager he would one day become but held his arms out patiently for Dora.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, darling,” said Fred, picking up Alison Luna and throwing her slightly, “okay, let’s go wake mummy.”

***

Hermione was fast asleep. The blankets over her trapped warmth and she felt so comfortable that she hoped that she would never have to move again.

Unfortunately, Fred had other plans.

Water, ice-cold water splashed down on her, drenching her and the bed. She sat bolt upright and found herself with an armful of children. She laughed and Fred cast another aquamenti charm, showering them all with cold water.

With a giggle and a wiggle, Hermione managed to get her arm out far enough to grab her own wand, flicking another aquamenti charm back at Fred, laughing hysterically as she did. They carried on, flicking charm after charm around and enjoying the children’s squeals of laughter.

Fred was glad to hear Hermione’s full laughter after so many years of, not sadness exactly, but quiet after the war. She smiled and seemed happy enough, but her laughter was out of reach. She loved with her whole heart, but her gorgeous laughter never passed her lips. Now, it bubbled around the room, like the most beautiful sound Fred had ever heard.

Rubeus launched himself at his father, breaking him from his reverie, just in time to catch him and swing him round, causing eruptions of laughter from all the family. After a few moments Fred put Rubeus down and lifted Dora off Hermione, who climbed off the bed and lifted Ali into her arms, grin practically splitting her face.

“Well, now that we are all awake,” said Hermione, quickly casting the drought charm over them all, and the bed, “let’s go and see if Father Christmas has come.”

As Rue raced off, whooping and laughing, Hermione caught Fred’s wrist.

“I’ll get my revenge for that.”


	2. BEAUTY

The lights were low in the small house on the lakeside. Night had drawn in quickly but the cold winter was held at bay by the solid oak door. Inside a fire blazed, heating the little place to a perfect temperature. Sitting cross-legged in front of the fire were two people. The little one was pointing to different piles of paper and then the larger would lift it up, fold it round and wave her wand.

“Which one next, honey?” asked Hermione, looking down at her oldest child.

“That one, please Mummy,” said Lavender.

“Okay,” said Hermione, picked up the next slip of paper, added it to the paper chain and waved her wand, muttering a sticking charm. 

“Can we hang it up now Mummy?” asked Lavender, leaping to her feet.

“Of course, darling,” said Hermione, getting to her feet at a more leisurely pace.

She hung the paper chain manually, enjoying the stretch on her legs and arms, moving after so long sitting still. Just as they hung the last of the paper-chains that they had made – Lavender hooking the end over a hook on the wall, the door opened.

Through it came Fred, wand raised and, stamping the snow off his boots, he stopped. The tree floated after him, horizontal as it came through the door and then past Fred to wait above the stand. “DADDY!” cried Lavender, throwing herself at Fred’s legs.

“Hey sweetheart,” said Fred, “can you give Daddy a second please?”

Using his wand and with Hermione’s guidance, they got the tree stood in its stand in the corner of the room. That done, Fred crouched down and gave his daughter a big hug, before standing and watching as she raced out of the room to do something else.

Once she was gone, he turned to kiss Hermione, enjoying her warmth in his arms as he did.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said, “you miss me?”

“You’ve been gone 20 minutes, Fred,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

“So that’s a no?” he clutched at his heart, “I’m wounded.” 

Hermione laughed and gave him a quick hug.

“Now come on,” she said, “I want this whole house decorated before your family arrive.”

“Our family,” said Fred, “you married into it?”

“I know, where was my brain that day?”

“I don’t know,” said Fred, “where?”

“Taking a backseat to my heart.”

They’d said this before, both of them knowing how the other would answer, but they loved their little routine all the same. It reminded them how much they loved each other.

“Accio Box of Christmas Crap from our loft,” said Fred, flicking his wand.

“Fred! Lavender’s around.”

“That’s what’s written on the box,” shrugged Fred, laughter bubbling behind his eyes.

Hermione hit him lightly on the shoulder but couldn’t hide her grin as she made her way over to the box which had arrived. She pulled open the top and dragged out Christmas decorations galore. There were baubles, tinsel and lights. Some she had bought in muggle stores, some she had bought in wizard store, and others sort of mysteriously appeared. With flicks of her wand she began to send them up to the tree where they hung like dewdrops. Upstairs the wailing started as the twins woke, chorusing their disappointment at this.

“I’ll go,” said Fred, seeing the disappointment flash across Hermione’s face as she realised that she wouldn’t get to finish one of her favourite tasks of the year.

“Thanks, Fred,” she said, smiling at him with heartfelt gratitude.

He jogged out of the room and Hermione went back to hanging decorations. Bauble after bauble rose, hanging in the perfect place, directed by Hermione’s faultless magic.

“Lavender,” she said when she had almost finished, “do you want to come and help me hang the star?” 

“Yeah!” yelled the little girl, racing back through.

“Okay, hold tight.” 

The five-year-old clutched the star tightly to her chest and grinned up at her mum.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” said Hermione, enunciating clearly and smiling at the memory of herself and Ron as she always did when she cast the spell.

Lavender rose into the air, turning as she did until she was level with the top of the tree, then she slid the star over the highest branch. Hermione lowered her again as the girl giggled.

“Thanks Mummy,” sad Lavender, racing out again.

Waving her wand, she lit the star from within, creating an inwards glow. She nodded once and flicked her wand again, extinguishing the light again. With another flick of the wand, she muttered ‘up, up and away’. A little sleigh and its reindeer took to the sky from the box, bells jingling merrily as it flew. 

“Accio Our Presents,” she said, directing her wand under the tree. Rows of neatly wrapped presents appeared under the tree, stacking themselves attractively around the base of the tree.

“Incendio!” said Hermione, pointing her wand at the fireplace, which roared into a beautiful flame, crackling and popping.

She hung the stockings by hand, tired of casting spells. Fred arrived back down the stairs holding a small box, which he placed delicately on top of the pile.

“You’ve done wonders,” said Fred, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

Hermione waved her wand; the star relit and a sparkling quality filled the room.

“It’s beautiful,” said Fred, “truly.”

“Thank you.”

“But…” said Fred, catching her as she turned, startled, not as beautiful as my wife.”

Hermione scoffed.

“You’re beautiful. Truly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, due to illness and deadlines, I have fallen behind (in the first three days!) but I plan to catch up at the weekend, if not before. Please bear with me.


	3. CRAVING

Hermione Granger was craving. She normally craved about as much chocolate as everybody else, but behaved herself because she didn't really want to get fat and even the charms in the wizarding world didn't seem to do that much for fat.

But right now, she was craving chocolate by the bucketful, but she thought she was justified.

After all, she was pregnant.

As she was rooting around in the back of the cupboard for anything else to eat, Fred arrived.

"Hey, love," he said, putting a hand on her back, "what are you doing in there?"

"Looking for something to eat," said Hermione, voice muffled by the cupboard.

"Well, I've got something for you to eat out here," said Fred.

"Great," said Hermione, standing upright.

She'd forgotten, however, that her head was still inside the cupboard and so she whacked her head off the shelf above as she stood up.

"Merlin's BEARD!" she yelled, clutching the back of her head as she withdrew more slowly from the cupboard.

"You okay, love?" said Fred, watching her step off the chair that she'd been standing on.

"Of course I'm not okay!" yelled Hermione, then she turned to face him, "I'm sorry Fred. I'm just a bit highly strung at the moment."

"I know love," said Fred, putting his arms around her and holding her close.

Tears dampened his jacket and he realised that Hermione was crying.

"You're going to be just fine," said Fred, sitting on the chair and pulling her onto his lap.

"I don't feel fine," said Hermione, "I feel ill all the time and miserable."

"I know honey, I know."

"But what if it doesn't stop when the baby is born?" asked Hermione, "what if I get post natal depression and try to kill the little one."

"You won't," said Fred, simply.

"BUT WHAT IF I DO?!" yelled Hermione, beating her fists against his chest as she sobbed.

"Then we will work through it," said Fred, "we will make sure that you are okay and that our baby is okay."

"I could kill it," cried Hermione.

"You won't," said Fred, "you are going to be a great mum. There's no question of it."

"Thank you, Fred," said Hermione, "it means a lot to hear you say that."

"Now then, love," said Fred, "how about that chocolate I mentioned?"

"What type is it?" asked Hermione, suddenly perking up.

"Cadbury's Milk Chocolate," said Fred, "I know that it's your favourite."

"You're going to make a great father," said Hermione, "but right now, you are making a great husband!"

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.


	4. DARKNESS

Hermione sat, still and silent as she thought. It was a silent night, as many winter nights are. The Burrow seemed empty, so cold, but it was actually quite full. Bill and Fleur, were in and so were George and Angelina. Me and Mrs Weasley were there too as well as Ron, Percy, Charlie, Ginny, and Harry. Kingsley Shacklebolt was snoozing somewhere below and Hermione was sat on the roof. Her blanket was pulled tight around her shoulders, tucking over her feet too. Of course she'd cast a warmth spell over it too, creating an aura of hot air around her.

She wasn't actually sure that she deserved it, after all that had happened, but freezing to death on a roof top would not help anything, except maybe that her miserable life would end.

The night above her seemed to be so dark, bereft of moon and stars. The land around her was silent too; she could hear nothing at all: no birds, no animals, nothing. She almost smiled; maybe there was nothing out there. She certainly felt that there was nothing out there for her.

After Fred's death, Hermione had withdrawn inside herself, cutting off the other people around and ignoring calls and letters. Fred had been her whole world and now her whole world was gone, shattered and scattered across the universe, where she would never find it again. She had never liked heights, but now, heights calmed her, reminding her of Fred and how he would take her flying, arms around her waist, breath on her neck.

Tears stung her cheeks, cold wind whipping them up and away.

The dark seemed to crawl closer, slowly pressing on her until she wanted to scream. But she didn't.

She never did. She looked around, but he couldn't see a thing past her arms and the chimney pot.

"Lumous," she muttered, flicking her wand, but the light just lit up the shadows of her face and the hollows of the roof around her.

She extinguished the light again, letting her head rest against the chimney pot.

"Fred" she murmured, looking up at the sky where clouds hung below the stars, hiding their light from her. As she watched, soft flakes of snow began to drift slowly from the sky towards her.

The sadness that overwhelmed her was overtaken by a momentary awe at the beauty of the snow. But the awe was replaced with tears again, freezing on her cheeks.

Harry found her there, in the morning, covered in snow with tears on her face, frozen to her skin.


	5. ENVELOPE

The envelope fell into Hermione’s lap. She hadn’t been expecting any mail today, given as she would be seeing everyone soon and that she hadn’t sent any letters recently. But there it was, lying in her lap, whilst her owl perched on the windowsill, head cocked to one side.

“What are you then?” she asked the letter as she peeled it open.

The letter formed itself into a face and began to talk

_Dear Santa,_

Hermione frowned. She wasn’t sure how many people in the wizarding world knew who Santa was, and she wasn’t sure why any of them would be sending her a letter for him. The letter continued to talk, in a monotone and unrecognisable voice.

_I cannot say that I have been perfect this year, but I know that I have tried my best. Well, I played some pranks. Well, maybe more than some. But that is irrelevant. I have been better this year than ever before and so I have compiled a list of things I would like for Christmas, if you don’t mind:_

_1\. I would like a new wand strap, so I can strap it to my leg, so that I always know where it is._

Hermione was utterly confused by this point.

_2\. I would really like a new book on obscure spells._

_3\. I would like for the girl I like to notice me, and so I sent her a letter addressed to you, because I know that her enquiring mind will have forced her to listen this far at least and now, she won’t stop because she wants to know who I am._

_4\. I would like for my mum to be happy._

_5\. I would like, though from what I understand about you this isn’t really your domain, for Moony, Prongs, and Padfoot to be reunited on the other side and for all those who died at the battle of Hogwarts to never be forgotten._

_6\. I would like a shedload of chocolate._

_7\. I would like a date with Hermione Granger, although I suppose that I’ll have to organise that one myself, after all, getting someone else to ask out your crush for you is not cool._

_8\. I would like for Hermione Granger to be happy all this year, and forever (Bonus point if she’s happy with me!)_

_Thank you, Santa,_

_Fred Weasley._

Hermione gasped. She couldn’t believe that Fred had been listening when she talked about Muggle Christmas traditions.

“Um…” came a voice behind her.

She span to find Fred stood there and bunch of flowers in one hand and an awkward, hopeful look on his face.

“So, um, that was me asking you out on a date …” he trailed off, uncertain of his reception.

“Was it?” asked Hermione, smiling, “I didn’t notice.”

“Really?” asked Fred, “I thought it was pretty obv –”

“I was kidding, you nutter,” said Hermione, “and I’d love a date.”

“Really?” This time, Fred sounded surprised.

“Of course,” said Hermione, “after all, I still believe in Father Christmas.”


	6. FRIENDS

Hermione watched Fred as he and George made mischief. She had long ago admitted to herself that she loved Fred Weasley, more than she had ever loved anyone, more than she had loved Ron. She loved the way his infectious laugh caught everyone around him into a whirlwind of happiness that you couldn’t escape if you tried. She loved how connected he was with his twin and how much he loved hi other half. She loved the way he was a big brother though he tried to hide it. She loved the way that no matter who it was, if someone hurt or tried to hurt one of his family (not just family by blood) then he would instantly get very protective and begin thinking of ways in which he could exact his revenge. She loved all this and more.

But they were just friends.

She had long ago accepted that Fred didn’t love her, didn’t think of her that way and she had convinced herself that this was okay, that she could just be friends with him.

She told herself this as she was seated next to him at Christmas dinner, George on his other side, Ginny on hers. 

Their legs pushed together under the table, but what with the ridiculous number of people trying to fit round the table, it was hardly surprising. 

When she and Ginny pulled a cracker, Hermione fell over backwards into Fred. He caught her and grinned, making a witty comment that had everyone laughing, even Hermione.

When she was trying to find her ring that had fallen off under the table, he cast a lumous charm to help her to see.

She was content with being nothing more than friends, even though when he touched her, she went giddy and when he smiled at her she felt like heaven had come to earth. She was happy being just friends, even though, sometimes at night, she would lie and think about how it would feel to kiss him, lips moving against his, fireworks crackling beneath her skin.

She was happy being friends when she decided to take a walk on Christmas day, wanting some fresh air. 

She was happy being friends when she noticed that Fred was coming up behind her, long legs allowing him to catch up quickly and easily.

She was happy being friends when they fell into step beside one another, chatting about the shop and the spells that the twins had created for their items and the spells Hermione had created.

She was happy being friends, even though when she saw that her circular walk was coming to an end, and the burrow was coming back into sight, she felt a pang of sorrow in her gut.

She was happy being friends when Fred stopped and motioned for her to do the same.

She was happy being just friends.

And then Fred kissed her.


	7. GARDEN

Hermione felt trapped. The press of bodies against her own felt hard as elbows jostled for position, trying to eat their Christmas dinner with minimal effort. She could feel knees digging into her thighs and shoulders bumping against hers. There were certainly far too many people trying to fit around the relatively small table in the burrow.

Hermione wondered why Mrs Weasley hadn’t cast an extension charm, but she didn’t think on it too long, preferring instead to focus on trying to stop her plate from being tipped by overenthusiastic boys reaching for gravy, roast potatoes and more meat.

The butter beer was flowing quite readily, and she was already wondering whether the twins, who were passing nearly every tankard to her, were slipping something a bit more alcoholic into it.

But her wonderings were no more than that.

Her discomfort however, was more than real. The heat of all the bodies was beginning to get to her, pressing down, like a silent weight on her shoulders. Her breathing quickened ever so slightly as she began to wonder how to politely excuse herself from the table. She settled on the idea of finishing her dinner and then claiming that she needed to visit the lavatory.

When she had finished her dinner, however, it seemed that everyone else had too.

“We’re going to go through to the living room and do presents and such like,” said Molly, “and then we’ll come back here for pudding, so be sure you’ve left enough space.”

People began to stand and head towards the living room. Hermione saw her chance and took it, standing with the throng and moving forwards. But when everyone else went to the living room, she headed left out of the door and towards the garden.

Outside, she could feel the bracing British winter and feel the almost stinging quality of the air on her face. She breathed deeply, enjoying the quiet and cold. She was glad that there was a space on both sides so that she could stretch her arms and legs.

It was a little while, long enough for her to admire the plants and the rather abusive gnome population, before anyone else came out into the garden.

“Hey,” said the voice behind her, “I noticed you weren’t in there. Are you okay?”

Hermione turned to find Fred leaning on the wall of the house, idly aiming a kick at one of the more vulgar gnomes.

“I just needed some air and space,” said Hermione, smiling.

“I know how you feel,” said Fred, “it’s even busier in there than normal, which is saying something.”

Hermione laughed, hair bouncing as she did.

“How do you do it?” she asked, “putting up with so many people all around you all the time. It’d drive me bonkers.”

“What makes you think it hasn’t already driven me bonkers?” asked Fred, pulling a silly face as he did.

Hermione laughed again, the sound ringing in the cold air.

“You seem so normal,” she jested when her face was straight again.

“Calm and collected,” said Fred.

“Well-adjusted,” replied Hermione.

“That’s me,” said Fred, holding out one arm, “why don’t you come and be well-adjusted and warm with me inside?”

Hermione looped her arm through his.

“Okay, Mr Normal, I’ll come with you until my totally not normal friend, Fred, comes back.”


	8. HOPE

Hermione pulled her jacket closer round her shoulders and leant against Fred slightly.

“You alright, love?” he murmured.

“Yeah, just a little cold.”

“For an ice skater, you really get cold easily,” joked Fred under his breath.

“Yeah, well, for a ginger you’re quite attractive.”

Fred laughed slightly under his breath.

They didn’t want to be too loud, after all the side of an Olympic ice skating rink was perhaps not the best place to be rowdy. Especially when you were awaiting the results of the skate you just did, which would determine whether you would get the gold medal or not for pairs’ ice dancing.

They thought that they had executed it well and, considering the competition, that silver would be an okay result too.

Hermione’s skimpy costume offered little protection from the cold and her hair was threatening to bounce out of its ponytail. Fred’s costume offered a little more warmth, but they were both glad of the GB team jumpers that they had to keep them warm.

Remus, their coach, was talking about how he thought it had gone and they were both listening intently enough to be able to remember it later on, but not enough to contribute to the conversation. But Remus knew this, so he didn’t ask for any responses.

Hermione glanced over at his excited face and recalled his story. He had been an ice dancer once too, and a good one at that. Lots of people had commented on his grace on the ice and fluid movements. He even had his own Olympic gold to boast of, but that had all changed years ago.

The British ice skating team had allowed him to meet all sorts of new skaters and to get tips from them. One of the men he met was Sirius Black. They had fallen in love, so the story went, and Hermione believed it; after all, every time Black was mentioned, Remus got this far away dreamy look in his eyes. But the two lovers had had to part ways. Black was now a head coach on a private school’s skating team somewhere in northern England. As far as Hermione knew, the two men hadn’t spoken since the fateful day that they skated out onto the ice, holding hands for all the world to see.

In ice skating, there were rules about ice dancing couples and one of them was that they had to have one man and one woman. Sirius and Remus’ coach had claimed that due to Remus’ small stature and grace on the ice that he skated more like a woman than a man, but the judges had disqualified them, though not before watching one of the best ice skating routines ever performed on international television.

Hermione shook her head and looked up into Fred’s eyes. She was very lucky that the love of her life and her skating partner was of the opposite gender. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they did to her what they did to Remus.

The loudspeaker crackled and Fred and Hermione’s heads shot up, looking towards the judges. Remus stopped talking and a hush fell over the stadium.

“Fred Weasley and Hermione Granger have been awarded … 220 points for their performance.”

Fred leapt to his feet, pulling Hermione with him. She whooped and hugged him, pulling him close.

“We did it, love,” he said, “Olympic champions!”

Hermione squealed slightly and then laughed.

“You and me, Olympic champs, can you believe?”

“You better believe it,” said Remus, joining the group hug, “you just hit gold.”

“Thank you, Moony,” said Fred, “for everything you’ve done.”

“Thank you guys,” said Remus, “I’d never have re-entered the rink if it wasn’t for you kids.”

Hermione smiled; after all, she’d seen the ragged man stood in the crowd, holding a sign reading _Go Moony’s Kids._ And she couldn’t wait until Remus saw him too.


	9. IMAGINATION

If Hermione and Fred could have a perfect Christmas, they would wake lazily at about eleven in the morning and eat breakfast.

They would wait for the others to arrive, Mr and Mrs Weasley would arrive first, Molly bustling straight into the kitchen to see to the dinner.

Then, George and Angelina would arrive and Fred and George would make jokes and innuendos and Hermione and Angelina would roll their eye, and laugh a little at their men.

Then, Ron, Lavender, Harry and Ginny would arrive with big smiles on their faces and gifts in their hands and alcohol in their bags.

Then, other Weasleys would arrive, filling the house with noise and laughter.  
Sirius and Remus would arrive with their hands intertwined and wands flicking as they apperated into the room. James and Lily wouldn’t be far behind, ‘tripping’ clumsily into the men in front. Sirius would throw a curse and then all the people around would get in on it, until the flying jinxes and hexes were filling the air with light.

Hermione and Fed would serve alcohol and they would si around and eat and laugh and enjoy each other’s company, knowing that the next day, the hangovers would be wiped away with a mere spell and the music and joy would go into the night.

If Hermione and Fred could have a perfect Christmas, their friends would be there.

Except, James and Lily couldn’t be there because they had died years ago. Sirius and Remus’ relationship had never got off the ground and they were dead too. Ron and Lavender had broken up and so they couldn’t be there.

But Hermione and Fred could not have a perfect Christmas, because Hermione and Fred had become merely Hermione.


End file.
